


The Colonel

by Scruggzi



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Although don't ask me about the timeline, Banter, Canon Compliant, F/M, Flirting, Jack has an adopted koala, Pre-Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, early season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22421896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scruggzi/pseuds/Scruggzi
Summary: Jack has a koala. That's pretty much it. You're welcome.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 41
Kudos: 116





	The Colonel

**Author's Note:**

> If any of you missed Nathan Page's instagram video where he rescues a koala who was hanging out on a main road I recommend having a look. It's gods damn adorable.
> 
> Many thanks to Glamorouspixels for the beta read!

Phryne didn’t often call on Inspector Robinson at his home. Increasingly, as their cases intersected, she had been able to entice him into her parlour to go over evidence and even stay for a nightcap afterwards. She had tried to let him know that his presence was a welcome one, but still he always left disappointingly early. In the sober light of day she could hardly blame him for that. She caused him enough trouble as an investigative partner - a fact she reflected on with more pride than contrition - and the complications of a romantic entanglement would doubtless be more trouble than they were worth. For him at least. 

No matter. The city held no shortage of diverting men, and she was more than happy to settle for his friendship. It didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the evenings they spent together, heads bent over some seemingly unsolvable puzzle, minds racing to find the answer ahead of the other. It was a rare thing for her to find a man who could match her, and there were times when she was sure (well, almost sure) that he was taunting her with the possibility of a more intimate connection.

They hadn’t seen each other in almost two weeks, not since the unfortunate business with poor Freddie Ashmead, and although she had found plenty of ways to distract herself, Phryne found she missed Jack’s presence. Of course, she would never allow such a feeling to prevent her from living life to the full, but it was becoming increasingly distracting, his absence niggling at her like a loose tooth. 

Being as she was a woman of action, she decided to approach the matter head on. There was a minor matter involving an influential businessman who was convinced that his prized grey poodle had been abducted during an afternoon constitutional. Having spent more than ten minutes in the man’s company Phryne was fairly convinced the animal had simply run off of its own accord, but it would do as a pretext at a pinch.

She called at the station first and was honestly astonished to find her inspector absent. Of course, the man must take time off occasionally, but it was somehow hard to imagine. Her image of him was so intertwined with his profession, as if he sprouted fully formed in his office chair every morning, smiling that wry, half smile of his, ready to feign irritation at her presence before agreeing to accept her help.

She considered giving the whole matter up as a bad job and finding something else to occupy her time, but in the end decided that the short drive to his little Richmond bungalow would be well worth the slight loss to her pride. He was sure to see through the lost dog ruse, but really, it hardly mattered if the man knew she enjoyed his company, it wasn’t as if she had ever pretended otherwise. She squared her crimson cloche firmly atop her head, repinning it in preparation for the journey and sped at an exhilarating speed in search of her quarry.

There was no answer when she knocked at his front door, something of a let down after coming all this way, and she was about to turn to leave when she heard a noise. There was nothing mysterious about it. Anyone born and raised in Victoria – even the more metropolitan parts – would know it at once. The deep croaking rumble and honk of a koala was reverberating down the street, loud enough to wake the dead.

It made her smile.There had been a time, during her brief and unsuccessful incarceration at a London boarding school, when she had woken every morning to the sound of the ancient plumbing creaking into life. Her observations on its similarity to the bellow of an amorous koala had been enough to leave her schoolmates in fits of laughter, earning her a measure of popularity which almost eclipsed the stigma of her colonial origins. She had never let any of the other girls see the homesick tears the sound had drawn from her, lost in the cold and damp of an English winter as body and soul cried out for the Australian sun.

It was a sound that meant home, and she couldn’t have said why, but hearing it here, on the doorstep to Jack’s little bungalow, tugged at the space his brief absence had left in her. She shook her head to rid it of the unexpected sentiment and made to return to her motorcar. Dinner, dancing and a deeply disreputable bedfellow would put her right. Clearly, she hadn’t been enjoying herself enough lately.

_“Well, that’s easy for you to say, but I don’t see you lending a paw.”_

It was Jack’s voice, drifting lazily towards her on the gentle afternoon breeze. Apparently, he was not out, as she had assumed, but working in his garden, and unless she was very much mistaken, he was talking to a koala.

A brief investigation uncovered a green painted wooden gate, almost obscured by a large rose bush. The path beyond led around the back of the bungalow to a larger garden she hadn’t realised was there. Unlike the front yard, which was filled with flowers, this one appeared more functional than decorative, neat plots of vegetables and a few small fruit trees ran up to the back door with a line of blue gums at the back to separate it from the garden behind.

Jack was leaning on a spade in one of the vegetable patches, wearing nothing but a pair of light, tan-coloured trousers and a singlet. There was a smear of earth across his cheek and his hair, free from its usual pomade was tumbling in unruly curls over his forehead. The sight alone was certainly an arresting one and she didn’t bother to hide the appreciative smile that spread over her face. She might have elected to respect his decision not to pursue her romantically, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate his assets when they were so nicely displayed. 

Despite the delicious shiver that spread through her at the image of her inspector _en dishabille_ , it was what he was looking at that really piqued her curiosity. At the base of the gum tree closest to where Jack was standing, someone – presumably Jack himself - had erected a rough wooden shelter. It consisted of a raised platform, open on three sides but protected from the elements by a roof of dried eucalyptus leaves. On it sat a large, rather surly looking koala, apparently quite at ease, taking advantage of the shelter from the afternoon sun. It bellowed again, somewhat disconsolately in Phryne’s opinion. Apparently, its attempts at attracting a female companion were not proving successful. As it stretched, she saw that one of its back legs was a mess of scar tissue and didn’t appear able to bear its weight, although otherwise the animal seemed quite healthy.

“I know mate,” Jack replied sympathetically, “but I’m not exactly the man to ask for help in that department.”

Phryne was a little tempted to wait and see if her inspector was about to incriminate himself, but on balance decided against it.

“Good afternoon, Inspector. No rest for the wicked, I see.”

Jack nearly jumped out of his skin. He was not used to being snuck up on, even by Phryne Fisher, but the musk and eucalyptus scent of koala was a match even for her French perfume. He glanced down at his less than professional attire, torn between mortification at being caught unawares and satisfaction at the realisation that Miss Fisher very obviously liked what she saw.

“Miss Fisher? I take it that your unexpected presence in my garden indicates a murder has taken place?”

It was the only reason he could think of to explain her visit, although he couldn’t imagine why the station wouldn’t have contacted him first. Somehow, even the suspicion that he was about to lose his day off to one of her ridiculous schemes, failed to halt the flush of joy that swept through him at seeing her again. It had been too long and he had missed her company very much, had even considered telephoning her at home. They might not have a case, but perhaps excursion to Luna Park or the beach at St Kilda could have been arranged. Unfortunately, a nasty bout of fever had seen several of his best men confined to their beds and those left at the station were being run ragged. This was the first day he’d had off in almost a fortnight and his garden had been looking terribly neglected so he had put the idea off. A fact which had nothing to do with the frisson of schoolboy nerves that had awoken at the thought. There was no harm in a little outing between friends after all. It wasn’t as if he was courting her, he was well aware that road could only lead to grief. 

Phryne abandoned any intention of pretending she had been brought there by a case. The scene before her was a far more interesting investigative prospect than a missing poodle, however impressive the pedigree. Still, there was no need to let him think she had sought him out deliberately.

“Not at all, Jack. I was merely passing and thought I would drop in and say hello. I tried the front door but there was no answer. Then I overheard you, apparently being berated by a koala.”

He blushed slightly, something he hoped she would attribute to the warm weather. He was used to having his garden to himself and hadn’t realised he had been talking aloud. He rammed the spade forcefully into the soil to keep it upright, and it did not escape his attention that Miss Fisher watched his movements with interest. It was flattering, to be sure, but he doubted it was any more than the customary level of flirtation she employed with most men. She had a way about her that could make you feel like the only man in a room when she looked at you, and if you wanted to keep up with her, it was important not to let it go to your head.

“He does tend to be somewhat disparaging of my efforts at cucumber cultivation,” he lamented, poker faced. A face he had to work hard to maintain when she unlatched the gate and sashayed towards him; a vision in red silk and lace, dark glasses glinting in the sun. 

As she approached, Phryne could see that ground at his feet had been recently turned over in preparation for further planting, but the bed next to him was full of long, thick cucumbers; clearly well cultivated, ripe and ready to be picked. He was wearing that almost invisible smile, hinting that the suggestive nature of the vegetable had not been lost on him and she rose to the challenge at once.

“They appear to be doing rather well from where I’m standing.” She parried, adding a long glance down his body over the top of her sunglasses, just to see if he would swallow hard and turn the corners of his mouth down just so - which he did. Satisfied at her victory, she turned back towards the koala, who was watching the exchange with sleepy indifference.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Of course,” he nodded seriously and adopted a tone of exaggerated formality. “Miss Phryne Fisher, this is the Colonel. Sir, allow me to introduce The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher.”

“Delighted to meet you, Colonel.” Phryne waved at the koala, who gave a slow blink before looking away. “But Jack, am I to understand that this charming gentleman outranks you?”

“I’m no longer a military man, Miss Fisher, but when I was, I couldn’t help but notice the officers in my regiment spent somewhat more time asleep in the mess than they did on the frontlines and had barely a handful of brains to go around. So, it was a toss-up between the Colonel and the Brigadier.”

Phryne chuckled, tip-toeing past Jack to investigate the little shelter. The stealth was apparently unnecessary, the Colonel seemed only mildly disgruntled at her presence and not enough to bother to move. Once up close she could read the words ‘Officer’s Mess’ scratched into a branch above the little den, and smirked a little, appreciating the attention to detail. 

She had known clever officers – most of them NCOs – but she was more than familiar with the type Jack was talking about. They were the ones that got men killed, and truly deserved rather more censure than he had given them. If anything the koala was the one who should have taken offence.

“This one seems to have seen his share of combat. What happened to his leg?” 

Jack came up behind her, looking down rather fondly at the little creature. He had been a fixture in his garden for some time and was usually far more wary of new people. It seemed Miss Fisher’s charms extended beyond the weaknesses of unsuspecting men.

“He was hit by a motorcar. The driver was drunk and spent a night in the cells for it.” His tone suggested he would have very much liked to deal out a more serious punishment.

“And you took the little fellow in?”

“One of my neighbours is a veterinarian, he patched him up but warned me he would likely be dead by morning. That was around three years ago.”

Phryne’s ever-present curiosity had brought her close to the tree, and the Colonel, not entirely comfortable with such scrutiny, rose and lumbered unsteadily upwards. His lame leg made the climb slow and difficult, but Phryne noticed that the tree above him was littered with small wooden platforms and ledges, clearly added by a human hand. When he reached the first of these, placing him a little above the heads of the assembled detectives, he sat down once again and resumed his bellowing call.

“So, you built a home for him?”

It was somehow the last thing she would have expected, and yet entirely unsurprising at the same time. Jack Robinson was nothing if not a source of intrigue.

“He gets around pretty well, but I think my company might be wearing a little thin.”

“Yes, he does seem rather eager to attract a lady friend. I’m afraid my social circle is sadly lacking in koalas or I’d offer to make an introduction.”

“Matchmaking, Miss Fisher?”

“Only where it’s welcome of course. It’s a shame to see a lonely bachelor in want of company.”

She was rewarded for her observation with a small, knowing smile and a rough, warm hand on her shoulder.

“Look,” he pointed up into the tree some distance above them where flash of grey fur could just be seen among the leaves, “it seems he’s managed to catch someone’s attention after all.”

“I think you’re right, Jack. Perhaps we should give them a little privacy.”

“Good idea. It’s a little early for a nightcap, but perhaps a pot of tea? There may even be biscuits.” He added in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Well in that case, how could I refuse?” Phryne beamed, taking his arm, her fingers gently and deliberately caressing his bare skin as he led her up the garden path to the kitchen door. Behind them the Colonel, who remained something of an optimist despite the difficult hand life had dealt him, continued his high-volume attempts at seduction without an audience. 

After three years Jack was well aware that his marsupial companion was both an incorrigible flirt and somewhat more of a ladies-bear than a casual observer might expect. What he lacked in speed he made up for in patience and tenacity. He smiled to himself as he pulled the biscuit tin down from the shelf, his skin still humming at the memory of Phryne’s less than innocent touch. You could learn a great deal from watching nature, he thought, a great deal indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> The wild koala population in Australia has been decimated by the recent wildfires; AO3 forbids soliciting for donations so I won't, but I'm sure a swift Google will turn up a myriad of ways to help out if anyone is so inclined. Koalas, incidentally, are dumb as a box of rocks due to the poor nutritional content of eucalyptus, Jack wasn't just being mean when he compared them to the English officer class!


End file.
